Reflecting Light
by psudani
Summary: Post-Memorial Day Fic alternating from Donna's pov to Josh's. This story is COMPLETE.


Disclaimer: As I think back to when I was a toddler and I hear "Mine, Mine, Mine!" I then hear my mother proclaim the truth. "No, it's not yours. Now give it BACK!" Back would be to John Wells, I pressume.

Archive: Let me know, first. I could use the ego boost.  
Comments: This is the first time I have posted on this site, so be nice. I must thank my e-mail friend, Heather, for her beta skills and thoughts on this story. Actually, I am not sure I should call this just "my" story anymore. I owe her a debt of gratitude. I will, however, take all your feedback for myself, so send it on over! Alright, I'll share a little. As for the title, well, I had the hardest time coming up with one, so I used the title of the song I was listening to when I began writing this. Looking back, it kinda makes sense.  
  


I rode the pain down, got off and looked up  
Looked into your eyes  
The loss opened windows all around  
My dark heart lit up the skies

Now that I've worn out, I've worn out the world  
I'm on my knees in fascination  
Looking through the night  
And the moon's never seen me before  
But I'm reflecting light  
-Reflecting Light  
Sam Phillips, A boot and a shoe, 2004  
  
When most people hear about what happened to me in May of 2004, they assume it must have been the worst time of my life. The rehabilitation...the pain...the mere fact that I was the only one to survive, people just assume.  
  
The truth is it wasn't the worst time or the best. Life doesn't really work in those extremes. I understand that now. If anything, I would call it a time of transition – the various plotlines of my life ending and beginning.  
  
I think my life changed the most in those first few days after what happened...happened. The first time I remember waking up and the hours I can recall were about the past. It was about looking after Josh, seeing Colin again, and trying to piece together what I thought had happened without actually admitting that I knew what had happened and didn't want to deal with it. It was also about hiding, or not hoping, why I thought Josh was really there.  
  
When he left to live out his secret fantasy of being James Bond for an hour, my coherent thoughts were of three men, although I assume the little green goblins that danced around them had something to do with the drugs. The first was Colin. The sound of his accented voice, the ease in which we communicated, the way we seemed to fall so easily into a relationship. It was clean. No regrets, no misunderstandings. My thoughts of Colin faded as quickly as they came. Like my adventure through the Middle East, it was only meant to be temporary. What lingered was nothing more than a product of circumstance.  
  
Josh was not circumstance or temporary. He was also not simple. He and I shared a lifetime of regrets, misunderstandings, and misdirection. For as much as we talked, we never really spoke to each other. I always wondered if there would come a day when we would both break down and actually have THE conversation. People assumed that I had been in love with Josh for years. I wasn't. Yes, I loved him, but I had never allowed myself to be in love with him. To me, falling in love is a joint venture, not a solo act. Those around us also like to say they knew we were meant to be together, and that we lived in a state of denial. The truth is it wasn't denial – it was fear. Fear because we both have always known our relationship could go in two very different ways. Intense people have intense shifts in character. As loving as Josh can be, he is also quite destructive. As strong as some may say I am, I am also very insecure. We both knew our relationship would grow based on how we entered it. That chance of destructive and insecure left us both in a state of fear.  
  
The third man that haunted me in those first few hours would continue to be with me for the rest of my life. He and I would share a bond that would both frighten and comfort me. He would become my angel. To be connected to someone because they spoke their last words to you is an emotional depth most will never experience. It wasn't however his words, but his smile that stayed with me. Even in my morphine induced hazes, I could see his smile. At first it was a horrific reminder of what was lost. Later when I saw that smile, I also saw what it represented. A soul complete – he loved, he lived, he created a home and a legacy. He died with the smile of a man whose accomplishments outweighed his regrets. He died with the smile I now work so hard to someday achieve.  
  
The second time I woke up from a post-surgical slumber, I distinctly remember two things. The first was hearing Admiral Fitzwallace's voice. CNN was re-airing an interview with him and although I could not see it, I could hear his words. It was almost like he was speaking directly to me, my smiling angel. He was answering a question regarding his impending retirement from the military. He stated "I started my career, and essentially my life insecure about who I would be and how I could possibly find my purpose in this world. I knew that my future could go in two very different directions. I chose to fight for my country and for the family I knew I would someday fight to have. I have endured the battles of war, relationships, and self-doubt. I can retire today because I have found peace in the man I was meant to be. My purpose in life has been fulfilled, and now I can sit back, smile, and enjoy it."  
  
The second thing I remember is opening my eyes feeling strong and secure, and looking into loving brown eyes. It was in that moment I finally allowed myself to begin to fall in love with Joshua Lyman.  
  
People assume it was the worst time in my life. The rehabilitation...the pain...the mere fact that I was the only one to survive, people just assume.  
  
It was late, or early depending on your perspective. Josh sat wide-  
  
eyed, listening to the rain pelt against the windows. He counted the  
  
seconds in between each clap of thunder... six, blinking instinctively as lightning flared behind the curtains. Somehow it seemed fitting to him – a thunderstorm. It was as if God was as angry at the actions of His people as Josh was. But thunder also brought rain–tears from heaven. God raged against the tragedies His people created, but He wept for them too. Anger and calm, rage and compassion, frustration and understanding; God balanced each extreme with yet another one. He weighed the world by giving a clap of thunder a pelting of rain, by giving a Josh a Donna.  
  
Josh shook his head forcefully, snapping himself out of his spiritual reverie. He fought to bring his eyes into focus and once again concentrate on his reason for being...here. Over and over he would review her from head to toe, mentally going through his list making sure everything was still alright. Cuts on face not bleeding, check. Rapid eye movement, check. Chest rising and falling, lungs filling with air, check...double check. Arms, hands, legs, feet, toes...check, check, check. Cuts on face not bleeding...  
  
His Donna, his perfect, ethereal, witty, strong, beautiful Donna. It seemed like days ago that she had been asking him if his meeting with the son of the sword, or baker, or whatever, was dangerous. She had been worried about him when all along her body was creating a silent killer – a blood clot gathering its strength, ready to ravage her body just waiting for him to leave his post. Waiting for him to let down his guard.  
  
He knew he shouldn't have left. He should have told Leo that she was his priority. He shouldn't have listened when she said she would be fine and that she was going to kick him out anyway if he didn't shower. He had lost his focus – distracted by international war games and British photographers. Maybe if he had stayed, he would have known she was heading for more danger. Maybe the surgery wouldn't have needed to take so long, or with so many complications. Maybe...  
  
The thunder cracked again with renewed ferocity. Did it always rain so hard in Germany? Was it raining in Washington? Josh tried to remember what was going on in D.C. The President would have thrown  
the first pitch in Baltimore last night. Donna had wanted to go to that baseball game before she knew about the CODEL. He was going to ask her to go with him. He was going to buy regular tickets so they could sit in the stands and Donna could eat her weight in nachos, hot dogs, and peanuts and he was going to let her scold him when he tried to buy a beer. He would have worn his Mets jacket so people would give him dirty looks and Donna would pretend like she didn't know him. Then as the night wore on and the air got cooler, she would take his jacket right off of him without asking and gradually move a little closer. He loved the way she looked in his clothes. He loved the way she looked in her clothes. He just loved her way.   
  
The thunder had begun to abate. Taking a deep breath, Josh rotated his head from one shoulder to the other, never taking his eyes off of her sleeping form. Suddenly, Donna's right hand began to twitch a little and she let out a soft moan. He didn't know if it was from the pain or a nightmare. It didn't matter. Gently, he took her hand in his and ran his thumb softly over the top of her wrist, smiling to himself for the first time in quite a while when he felt her relax. At that moment, a lost memory of his own battle with death washed over him. It wasn't as much of a memory as a feeling. He remembered the calm brought on by a similar touch. Donna had run her thumb over his wrist in just the same way years before. She had settled his demons before he knew they even existed. She had no way of knowing, but all those years ago she had silently taught him how to one day help her. Now he would fight her demons. Josh had no idea how he would do this; how he would pull it all together and be the man he needed to be for her. Now he knew. Donna had taught him how years before and everyday since. When one was thunder, the other would be rain.  
  
A hand on his shoulder pulled Josh back into consciousness. Slowly his mind cleared and he remembered where he was. At some point last night he must have fallen asleep, or passed out from shear exhaustion. He was still sitting in the chair, but his head was lying on the edge of Donna's bed and he was still holding her hand. But, if Donna was in front of him, then whose hand was on his shoulder? Their touch felt oddly familiar, like an old friend. Forcing his eyes open, he tried to lift his head, but quickly discovered that his sleeping position was not very ergonomic. A groan escaped as he began to shift in the chair in a futile attempt to loosen his muscles. The presence behind him was now at his side helping him up. Trying to stave off the headache he new was immanent; Josh carefully turned his head to greet his visitor. He  
  
knew immediately who she was. How could he not have? It was Donna. Well, an older, slightly heavier version of Donna. But, she had that same calming effect on him and he immediately felt better.  
  
"Mrs. Moss, I am sorry I fell asleep. I didn't mean to..."  
  
"Josh Lyman, correct?"  
  
"Mmm, please call me Josh."  
  
"Call me Marjorie, or Marj. You are allowed to sleep, Josh. Most people even prefer to sleep horizontally. My daughter did say you were unique, though."  
  
Josh rubbed his hand over his face, still trying to wake up. Looking at Marj, he instantly remembered Donna. Without a word of explanation, he turned to her and performed his mental checklist a few times.  
  
Marj moved to the other side of her daughter and performed her own checklist. She noted the bandage on Donna's elbow and the contraption around her leg and the tubes running in and out of her arms, nose, and chest. Her baby was broken and there was not a damn thing she could do about it. She promised herself she wouldn't cry. Moss' were not criers. They were strong Midwestern stock. They dealt with crisis head on.  
  
Donna had always been a bit different though – her own person. Donna was her spitfire, her stubborn, too intelligent for her own good, emotional hellion. She did things her own way and in her own time. Marj momentarily thought to herself that if only her youngest had just stayed in Wisconsin all those years ago, then maybe she wouldn't be lying in this hospital bed now. But, she pushed those thoughts aside as quickly as they came. For as much as she wished her baby wasn't lying in this bed, she also remembered how unhappy her daughter had been living the life her mother had thought she should have.  
  
"I'm sorry."  
  
Startled by his quiet apology, Marj looked up and held Josh's gaze. "What?"  
  
Josh repeated, almost dejectedly. "I'm sorry."  
  
For the first time, the older woman took a good look at the man before her. This man who was holding her child's hand like the most precious of diamonds. "I am not sure why you're apologizing to me, Josh. You have nothing to be sorry for."  
  
Josh momentarily seemed at a loss for words, but then pushed forward. "I sent Donna here. I walked away yesterday and she almost died. She still..."  
  
He was a rambling. Marj held her hand up, effectively cutting him off. "Please, do not finish that sentence. My daughter will fight her way through this. You know that as well as I. You honestly think a little thing like a bomb could stop a Moss?"  
  
Josh couldn't help but smile a genuine smile. He had always wondered where Donna got her wit. There were days, when his ego would go into overdrive that he figured she had just picked it up from him. No. Marjorie Moss had taught her daughter well. Wonder if she knew that?  
  
Marj continued, "Josh, I am going to tell you something that I'm sure you'll hear from everyone else as well, but I want you to actually believe me. What happened was not your fault. You know that Donna would be angry with you for even thinking it. My daughter has never been one to listen to anyone. When she wants something, she goes after it. She wanted this experience...well, maybe not all of this experience, but she wanted to go to the Middle East. She called me the night you gave her the passport. She was so excited and proud. Don't you think I didn't try to talk her out of it? Don't you think my husband tried to talk her out of it? When she finally got him to realize how important it was for her to go, he relented. He even told her he would disown her if she got on that plane."  
  
Josh's sat up his chair with a look of utter confusion. "He said what? Isn't disownment a bad thing? You say it like he was proud of her."  
  
"Whoa there Josh, let me explain. The disowning thing is a little game Donna and my husband play."  
  
Josh visibly calmed and sat back down before letting Marjorie continue her explanation. He couldn't fathom how disownment between a father and a daughter could be construed as a game. Maybe Wisconsinites really were a little off?  
  
Marj continued, "When Donna was about seven, she kneed this little twerp from our neighborhood where the sun don't shine. Poor kid couldn't walk for days without grimacing. Anyway, the boy's mother called the house and my husband, Sean, answered. He went storming out of the house in search of Donnatella. Eventually, he found her hiding behind the shed in the back yard; dirt on her favorite jeans, tears running down her face, blond hair flying in every direction. Sean immediately softened, but put on his tough face and said. Donnatella, what is this I hear about you hitting the Simpson boy?' Donna started crying even more and then began to beg my husband not to disown her."  
  
"Why would she think he would do something like that?" Josh asked.  
  
He found himself faced with a vivid picture of a young Donna giving her Dad her best pout. He couldn't help but smile at the image and began to think of how difficult it would be to stand up against a seven year-old version of Donna. Only his image had a few more curls and a pout-dimple combination. The thought mesmerized and terrified him in equal measures. Mesmerized by the image and terrified because he had no idea how he would ever say no to such a child. The continuation of Marj's story snapped him out of his reverie.  
  
"Apparently, the little twerp told Donnatella that since Sean and me already had three sons that there was no need to have a girl in the house and that we were only keeping her around until she was eight, because then we could disown her and sell her to the Mormons."  
  
Josh couldn't help the chuckle that escaped. "The Mormons...I thought people were always supposed to sell their children to the gypsies?"  
  
"This is the Midwest, Josh. There are a lot more Mormons than there are gypsies. Not that we have anything against Mormons, mind you."  
  
"Of course, absolutely nothing wrong with Mormons, although the not drinking thing kind of confuses me."  
  
Marjorie gave a quick laugh. When she did, Donna stirred a little in her sleep. Her face tightened and her breathing became a little erratic. Immediately on the alert, Josh squeezed her hand a little tighter while Marj leaned in and stroked her daughter's hair the way only a mother can.  
  
"Shhh, my sweet child, everything is okay. I am here, Josh is here, and nothing is going to happen to you. Rest now, baby."  
  
Donna's face softened and her breathing evened out. Marj glanced at Josh, who was still very much focused on her child. She suddenly found herself faced with a myriad of questions about this man who Donna had always insisted was just her boss.'  
  
"Apparently my daughter was so angry and upset by the prospect of not only being sold, but being sold because she was the only girl that she gave one swift kick right to the Simpson boy's jewels. Now you should know that my daughter has always been tall for her age and little Jack Simpson was not, so when she kicked him she pulled her leg up using her all her height and actually lifted him clear off the ground."  
  
His eyes still on Donna, Josh groaned a little at the prospect of what had happened to little twerp Simpson. Granted the kid deserved it, but a guy always has to commiserate when a woman chooses that line of defense.  
  
"So what did your husband do when he found Donna?"  
  
"Well, she asked him if he really was going to disown her and sell her to the Mormons and from what he told me, he was so shocked by the question that he just kind of melted right then and there. In between sobs, she explained what Jack had told her and asked him again if that was true. My husband briefly considered going after little Jack himself, but instead decided to pick Donnatella up and hold her tight. He told her that she was precious to him and that he would never give her up, no matter what she did. Only once, when Donna and our boy, Nico, set that same shed on fire do I think he thought of amending that statement."  
  
A wry grin tugged at his lips at this new revelation. "Donna set  
  
something on fire, please I have to hear this cause I need a comeback for when she brings up a little fire I set." Having Donna's mother around could prove to be useful.  
  
"It was the White House, Josh. I think that has a twenty year-old shed beat."  
  
"Does she tell you everything?" Josh asked in a mock anger.  
  
Marj glanced between Josh and Donna, "No, not everything. Some things she hasn't quite found the words to express."  
  
Josh chose to ignore what Donna's mother seemed to be implying and decided it was time to go through his checklist again.  
  
While he did, he asked, "So when Donna would venture into something Mr. Moss did not necessarily approve of, he would tell her he was going to disown her?"  
  
"It is more than that, Josh. My husband has never been a very emotional man. I know that our children and I are the center of his world and he has worked very hard, everyday, to make sure we are provided for. That has been his way of loving us. But, Donna was different. She always demanded a little more of him. She made him open up in a way he just didn't with anyone else. That day, when Donnatella was seven, Sean wasn't just telling her he loved her when he told her how precious she was, he was also telling her he was proud of her – for being her own person, for sticking up for herself. Donna understood that, even then. Later, when she would do something that seemed a little too off the beaten path, when she really took a chance, he would tell her he was going to disown her if she did it. It's his way of saying that even though he should be really mad at her for doing something so crazy, he really loved her and was proud of her."  
  
Josh contemplated what Donna's mother had said. His Donna did always demand a little more, push just a little further. It was just one of the many things about her he was grateful for. Then a thought struck him.  
  
"Did he disown her when she drove to Nashua?"  
  
"Not the first time."  
  
Josh's head jerked up to look at Marjorie, his brows knitted in confusion. "When my daughter decided to pick up and head out, my  
  
family did not exactly take it too well. Sean was so mad at her; he  
  
didn't even see her off. He even made our oldest son, Antonio, inspect the car because he didn't want anything to do with her decision. I think that is part of the reason she came back. You think it was just because of the doctor don't you? He was never right for her; we all knew it. When she decided to leave that first time, Sean thought he had failed her. Our baby was running away from everything we had given her."  
  
"But he came around?"  
  
"When Donna came back home, we all breathed a sigh of relief, momentarily. But, she wasn't the same person she had been just a few months before. It was Sean who first noticed how lost she was. She had found herself; in some little town; campaigning for a guy no one thought would ever become President. Sean saw that. He was the first to accept that Madison just wasn't big enough to hold the dreams of one Donnatella Moss. One evening, while we were all eating supper, including the want-to-be-doctor...somehow he always found he had a free night when we had steak...anyway, Sean dropped his knife, looked straight at Donna and said Donnatella, if you get back in that car and go get that no good eastern democrat governor elected president, I'll disown you.' The doctor jumped from the table, dropped his napkin, and started whining about her leaving him again before storming out of the house. Donna, on the other hand, just smiled. It was probably the warmest smile I have ever seen any of my children give."  
  
Josh couldn't believe he had never heard these stories before. He  
  
thought he knew everything about Donna; but the more his listened,  
  
the more he hungered to hear. He wanted to know everything. Listening to Marj's stories, it was easy to forget the subject of them was lying in a hospital bed, not just sitting in another room. He needed to forget for a while to feel that everything was going to be... normal again.  
  
"So how did she sprain her ankle?"  
  
"Oh, that, I had forgotten that even happened. She had a momentary lapse in judgment and went to find the dingbat doctor. Do you know the idiot stopped for a beer before going to the hospital?"  
  
Josh just nodded his head as Marjorie mused wryly "Wonder if Sean would have disowned me had I kicked the no-good doctor in the jewels for that one?"  
  
Josh grinned. This time he felt no need to commiserate. Actually the thought of Dr. Freeride taking a hit left him with almost a lighthearted feeling.   
  
"The second time Donna left home, Sean checked her car and gave her money he still thinks I don't know about. We all hugged her good bye and watched her tear out of the driveway – I swear that child should have been in NASCAR." Marj suddenly stopped her reminiscing and held Josh's gaze. "Can I tell you something, between you and me?"  
  
"I am pretty good at keeping secrets, kinda goes with the job."  
  
"I've given this a lot of thought. The first time my daughter went to Nashua, it was for mostly the wrong reasons. She was running away – from the doctor, from a life she didn't want, from convention, maybe even from her family. That is why, I think, she had to come back. The second time, she was driving towards her life. She found what everyone in this world searches for, she found the possibility of purpose and she wasn't afraid to chase it. Of all the accomplishments my children have had, watching her drive away in that beat up old Chevy still ranks as the proudest moment of my life."  
  
The tears had been falling for a while before he noticed them and when he did, Josh didn't bother to wipe them away. He hadn't cried since he heard the news of the explosion in Gaza. He had held it together in the White House, on the plane over and here in the hospital until now. Now, he couldn't help it and really, he didn't want to stop. He never met anyone who cherished Donna the way he did, who saw through her idiosyncrasies and found the beauty and strength only she possessed.  
  
"May I ask you a question, Mrs. Moss?"  
  
"I just shared with you some of my fondest memories of my daughter; I think you can ask me a question."  
  
"That's just it, why share this with me? We've never met before. I sent your daughter here. I wasn't there for her when needed me and still you tell me these stories. Why?"  
  
"Josh, we've been through this. You didn't send my daughter here. You may have signed a few documents that got her on the plane, but I assure you, you had nothing to do with this." Marj glanced down at the broken body of her only daughter before continuing. When she did, eyes still on Donna, her voice softened. "You think I don't know you, Joshua? I know you. I walked into this room a few hours ago and knew everything I needed to know about you. Don't think she doesn't know you either. She does. She always has and she has waited for you to see her the way she sees you." She turned to face him, holding Josh's gaze with a ferocity that echoed Donna at her most determined. "You think you haven't been there for her? You  
think you failed her? Why did you live, Josh? Four years ago, why did you live?"  
  
Stunned into silence, Josh turned to gaze at the woman who had wound his way into his life so completely and he suddenly found that the answer was simple. "I lived...I live for her."   
  
It felt as if a weight had finally lifted from his chest. Those four little words changed everything. He had always loved her. That he never questioned, but he never allowed himself to actually fall in love with her. He had always been so afraid of ruining the greatest gift he had ever been given. But saying those four words made it all seem so easy. He had made the first step. He admitted a truth he kept hidden from even himself. He lived for her. He lived for Donna.  
  
"And why do you think my daughter is lying here fighting to live?"  
  
Marj waited for Josh to follow her logic and smiled warmly. Rising from her seat, she placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "I am going to go call my husband. Give him an update. Try not to set anything on fire, Josh."  
  
Josh smiled back, thankful that both of the Moss women had walked into and taken over his life. "Yes, ma'am."  
  
He followed her retreating form before turning his attention back to  
  
Donna, ready to go over another checklist when he noticed her stirring. His heart sped up with the anticipation of seeing her eyes again as he gently coaxed her towards consciousness. Behind him he could hear the television and silently cursed himself for not turning it off earlier. It was still on CNN and they were showing and old interview of Admiral Fitzwallace. He wanted to go turn it off but there was no way he was letting go of Donna's hand. He wasn't leaving his post again. Outside the rain had slowed to a drizzle, leaving the streets washed and full of new possibilities. But Josh wasn't paying attention. As Donna's eyes fluttered open and met his gaze, he finally let the last of the barriers go and allowed himself to truly fall in love with his Donna.  
  
Finito


End file.
